A Different World
by barneyrockz
Summary: Fitzwilliam Darcy, a 19th century gentleman with wealth and power, decided to take a walk one day, and he found himself somehow transported to the 21rst century. Can he survive a world very different from one he knew? He receives help from Elizabeth..
1. Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy

Sorry. This is my fourth story in progress, but I like this story and I feel bad keeping it all to myself. I also want to prove that I am doing something, though I may not be updating the other stories. My excuse is that I get writers block really often, so if that happens I move on to another story. Well I'm stuck on the other three, but hopefully not for long. Summers almost here and I should have at least one of the stories finished before school starts again. I hope you like this. It has been sitting on my computer FOREVER! It was just taking up space. I edited it and have written the next chapter already. :-) I'll post that next weekend most likely, but if I get enough reviews I might be willing to post it earlier. :-)

Summery- Fitzwilliam Darcy lived a life of wealth. He was a 19th century gentleman with connections and breeding. Deciding to take a walk one day, Darcy finds himself somehow transported to the 21rst century. Can he survive a world very different from the one he knew? He receives help from Elizabeth Bennet, a millionaire, but in the end will she have truly helped him or have only made his life all the more complicated? Can he ever find his way back?

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy lived the life that many men could only wish for. He was a handsome, well connected, wealthy gentleman who owned a large estate in Derbyshire. Even with all of this he was still not a happy man. He had come into his responsibilities at a young age after the death of his father. Since his mother had died years previously, not only did he have charge of the estate, but after his father passed, he also had to care for his younger sister, Georgiana.

Darcy was not a people person. He had a hard time opening up to anyone he had not know for a long time. His list of friends and people he could depend on was short, very short. It consisted of Colonel Fitzwilliam (his cousin), Georgiana, and a few close friends. Another thing that was considered lacking from Darcy's life was love. Or at least a partner to share his life with, regardless of affection. Despite his numerous attractions to single ladies from all over the country, Darcy was unmarried and had no plans of becoming so. He was determined to marry for love.

Darcy sighed as he paced the floor of his study. He was waiting for his cousin to arrive. Colonel Fitzwilliam was a very jovial man and was one of the few people who could bring Darcy out of his mask of cold indifference. Glancing at the clock Darcy noted that there was still another hour before Fitzwilliam was to arrive, but knowing his cousin Darcy had to prepare himself for a wait of two or three hours. Darcy stopped his pacing and searched in vain for a book to occupy his interest. Finally he gave up the effort and decided on a walk.

As Darcy stepped out to the grounds of his estate, he felt much of his tension drift away. Feeling much lighter, Darcy began to walk towards the woods on his property. He strolled through the trees enjoying it immensely. Feeling adventurous, he moved off his much trodden path and explored the more dense forest.

Darcy looked at his watch and began the journey back to the house, when he caught a glint of white. He spun to see it and spotted a beautiful flower, the likes of which he had never seen. It was a shocking pearly white and as large as his hand. Darcy carefully moved closer and bent to examine it. He felt a tickling in his nose and took a deep breath to hold back the sneeze. The sent that invaded Darcy's nostrils was very unusual, even unnatural. It smelled sweet, but there was a bitterness and unhealthiness to it that Darcy could not understand. Suddenly he found himself rocking on his heels and his vision begin to blur. The trees disappeared and Darcy saw great factories that bellowed smoke into the sky. He saw carriages without horses moving far faster than could be healthy and even flying machines that traveled miles and miles up in the air. He saw explosions, huge and fiery. He saw great forests cut down until all that remained were the sad branches, dead upon the ground. Then the world went black and he saw nothing more.

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled as he spotted the familiar landmarks that showed him to be in Pemberley. He rode at a leisurely pace, admiring the grounds. He reached the house and dismounted, handing the reigns to a stable boy. Fitzwilliam looked up at the window which he knew belonged to Darcy's study. He expected to see his disgruntled cousin staring out at him from that window, but it remained vacant. Fitzwilliam made his way to the study without informing any of the servants. He was a regular at Pemberley and as welcome as if it was his own home. His loud knock on the study door should have been easily identifiable to Darcy, but yet the door remained closed. After another knock, Fitzwilliam decided to just go inside, propriety and politeness be damned.

Taking a bold step into the room Fitzwilliam scanned the room and was shocked to find it empty. He checked the clock and found himself on time for once. Even had he not been on time, Darcy would have waited another hour before departing the room. Darcy was a creature of habit, he was comfortable in doing things he had done all his life. There was no reason for him to change his ways now. Fitzwilliam's eyes swept the room once more before he exited to room.

He moved off in search of Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper. If anyone knew where Darcy was it would be her. She was in the parlor with Georgiana. He smiled and cleared his throat. With an exaggerated bow to both he addressed his question.

"Do either of you fine ladies know where Darcy is? I cannot find him." Both women looked quite shocked.

"I believe he said something about a walk, but that was an hour ago. Was he not in the study?" Mrs. Reynolds replied in a worried tone.

"No, I have just come from there. I shall investigate the grounds. He may have just lost track of time." Fitzwilliam knew how doubtful that was, but it seemed to calm the women down, so he let them hope.

Fitzwilliam followed the footprints he could see in the slightly muddy ground. He thanked god for the heavy rain that had come some days before. The trail let him into the forest and he moved slowly, careful not to deviate from the path. It seemed that Darcy had followed one of his favorite trail and gone to one of his haunts in the woods.

Fitzwilliam stopped abruptly as he realized the footprints no longer followed the trail. They moved off straight into the woods. With some apprehension Fitzwilliam forced himself to follow their direction. After about a quarter of a mile the tracks stopped and doubled back. Fitzwilliam allowed himself a smile. Maybe Darcy was alright after all. The tracks suddenly veered off to the right and Fitzwilliam had no choice, but to follow them. Soon they stopped altogether without any reason. There was nothing unusual about the spot. There were no other sets of foot prints, so he could not have been kidnapped, and there was no sign of a struggle. There was no sign of Darcy at all. It was as if he had dropped of the face of the Earth.


	2. September 27th, 1811 or 2010?

**Darcy POV**

Darcy awoke to find himself lying on a soft bed of moss. He groaned and sat up. Brushing himself off, he quickly checked the time. It was far past the time that Fitzwilliam was supposed to arrive. He had been out for a full two hours. He set off at a quick pace back to the house. Not stopping to take time to fully look at his surroundings.

He exited the forest walking very fast. He pulled the doors open and strode in the house making his way up to the study, where, no doubt, Fitzwilliam was waiting for him. He pulled open the door and quickly entered. He paused, mid-step, as he took in the surroundings. He did not recognize the room. There was a desk on one side of the room that was overloaded with papers. Amid these papers stood, what looked like, a white metal box. Thick strings ran off of this box down to the floor where they wound together or separated each connecting to different places. He tore his eyes away from the strange box and looked at the book shelves. They were very like the book shelves in his study, but he could not recognize a single title. His eyes began to roam again and he stopped to take in the other wonders in the room. His observation was interrupted by a feminine voice coming from under the desk.

"What do you want, Jane? Can't you see I'm busy?" Darcy stared at the desk in wonder. He was astonished by the woman's rude and blunt nature and was curious who Jane was.

"I fear I must tell you that you are mistaken, for I am certainly not Jane." A loud clunk followed by several curses had Darcy inwardly cringing, both for the pain she received and embarrassed at her crudeness. The woman stood, one hand held on the side of her head. She stared at him in astonishment and he could not help doing the same. She wore no dress; instead she was dressed like a man, with a shirt and pants. As she stepped around the desk Darcy couldn't help, but notice that she wore no shoes and he pant legs were rolled up, giving him a rather good view of her ankles and legs. Her shirt sleeves were also rolled up and he could see her arm up to the elbow. He colored slightly at the amount of skin she was showing, but she didn't seem the least embarrassed by it. His eyes darted back up to her face as she spoke.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?" She glared at him and Darcy was at a loss for words. Her house? She must be delusional.

"Forgive me madam, but is this not Pemberley?" He supposed that this could be her house. He did not recognize the study, but the outside of the house had been the same.

"Stupid idea to name a house if you ask me, but yes it is Pemberley. Now answer my questions, or I will call the police." Darcy paled as he examined the woman before him. She was obviously mad and seemed, to Darcy, rather dangerous.

"I can assure you, madam, that Pemberley belongs to me." She snorted in a very unladylike fashion. Darcy grew more uneasy.

"Oh and who might you be, my good sir, that you can claim this house?" The woman smirked and tried to suppress her laughter at a joke Darcy did not understand. He relaxed slightly as she spoke correctly for the first time.

"I am Fitzwilliam Darcy." He gave her a polite bow, remembering his manners. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but she did not return his bow or even give her name. He thought her increasingly rude. "And you are?"

"Elizabeth Bennet." She paused as if trying to find the right words. "Look, I could have you arrested on the charge of trespassing, but I'm willing to be nice. I can show you my deed if that would help. You can stay in the living room while I have my housekeeper bring it down." Darcy gave his assent without really thinking about it. He was confused and very much so.

Elizabeth called the housekeeper and she led him into the living room. The housekeeper left and Darcy spotted another strange object. He moved over to examine it. It was partially inside the wall, only showing a black reflective surface. Darcy thought it could be a mirror, but wondered why someone would make a mirror black. He was so intent on his examination that he failed to hear footsteps approach him. It was only when she was standing just behind him that Darcy noticed her in the reflection of the strange mirror. He turned to Miss Bennet, taking in her pale and confused face.

"Fitzwilliam," Darcy started at the use of his Christian name. She hardly knew him! How could she expect to be allowed such liberties? "What is the date?" He stared at her unsure where this question tended. He was very puzzled.

"It tis the 27th of September. Might I inquire as to why?" Elizabeth shook her head slowly.

"No, I meant what year is it?" Darcy's thought that she was mad was only being reinforced as the conversation progressed.

"1811." Elizabeth's face paled and Darcy grew concerned. Whether she was mad or not, he was still a gentleman. "Miss Bennet, are you feeling ill?" Elizabeth closed her eyes and picked up the newspaper off the table.

"I think you should see this." She held the paper out and Darcy, after a moments hesitation took it. He glanced at the headline, but Elizabeth shook her head again. She moved closer until they were much too close to each other to be proper and pointed at the date line.

_'September 27, 2010'_

* * *

**Elizabeth POV**

Elizabeth was having a bad day. The kind of day that began unhappy and grew worse and worse as the day droned on. It was not bad enough that her stocks had taken a huge plunge, but when all of the stocks were at their lowest her computer decided to malfunction. To top everything off, no one could be brought in to fix the problem until the next day. This was how Elizabeth found herself under her desk, on the nicest day all year, damning the day computers were ever invented.

It was arguable that Elizabeth had every right to snap when she heard someone come in. She had thought it was Jane, her older sister, who often visited. Elizabeth was not in the mood for Jane's angel-like personality.

"What do you want, Jane? Can't you see I'm busy?" Elizabeth heard the person jump with surprise as her voice floated out from under the desk. She let a small smile rise to her lips.

"I fear I must tell you that you are mistaken, for I am certainly not Jane." A deep, manly, British voice reached her ears and she jerked up quickly, forgetting the desk right above her. After applying several choice cuss words Elizabeth crawled from beneath the desk, her hand covering the lump that had risen on her head.

She observed the man standing before her. He was very handsome, but what caught her attention was his apparel. He wore old fashioned clothing, even complete with a cravat. Elizabeth wondered whether the man before he was mad or just had a very odd sense of fashion.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?" The sharp throbbing pain in her head in combination with an overall bad day, made her words far ruder than she would have normally said them.

"Forgive me madam, but is this not Pemberley?" Elizabeth stared at him wondering how he would know the name of the house or call it that. No one had called it Pemberley since her great grandfather. It was not the original Pemberley, which burned down in 1916, but she figured that he could hardly think it was and few people even knew the history of the house.

"Stupid idea to name a house if you ask me, but yes it is Pemberley. Now answer my questions, or I will call the police."

"I can assure you, madam, that Pemberley belongs to me." Elizabeth snorted. Did he truly think he could just walk into the house and demand that she give it to him?

"Oh and who might you be, my good sir, that you can claim this house?" Elizabeth bit back her laughter as she mocked the man's way of talking. It was not a nice thing to do, but Elizabeth was in no humor to be nice. She hoped he would get the hint and start talking like a normal person. Much to her surprise, her words seemed to relax him instead of embarrassing him, as was her goal.

"I am Fitzwilliam Darcy." He gave her a bow. She could do nothing, but stare. How was she supposed to react? He seemed to feel awkward that she hadn't done anything. "And you are?"

"Elizabeth Bennet." Elizabeth paused and tried to figure out a way to prove that the house was truly hers. She tried to fraise her suggestion as politely as possible in the hope that he would leave. "Look, I could have you arrested on the charge of trespassing, but I'm willing to be nice. I can show you my deed if that would help. You can stay in the living room while I have my housekeeper bring it down." Fitzwilliam vaguely nodded and Elizabeth wondered if he had heard her. She rang for her housekeeper and watched Darcy be led away.

She attempted to go back to her computer. She ducked under the desk again and fiddled with some cords. She pressed the power button, hope building within her. The familiar sounds of a computer booting up reached Elizabeth's happy ears. She sat in her chair and twirled around in celebration. Elizabeth logged online and stared at the web page pondering. Finally she opened Google and typed in 'Fitzwilliam Darcy'. She clicked the first web site and found, much to her surprise, that it was about the history of Pemberley. Curiosity growing Elizabeth read.

_Fitzwilliam Darcy was master of Pemberley after the death of his father in 1805, leaving the entire estate to Fitzwilliam at the age of 19. Fitzwilliam Darcy was master of Pemberley for only six years. In 1811 Fitzwilliam mysteriously disappeared while taking a walk in the grounds. There was no foul play suspected and his body was never found. His sister (Georgiana Darcy), and his cousin (Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam) searched for several years, but the master of Pemberley was never found. His sister overcome by grief at her brother's disappearance succumbed to illness only five years later, leaving the whole of the estate to her cousin Richard._

The information about the Darcys ended there, but Elizabeth was still unsatisfied. She could not believe that the man who had walked into her study had been Fitzwilliam Darcy the 18th century gentleman. But something nagged at the back of her mind causing her to move to the living room, where she knew Fitzwilliam would be.

As she walked in she spied him at the TV obviously intrigued by it. The way he was examining it made it seem as though he had never seen one before. He finally realized she was there and turned to face her.

"Fitzwilliam, what is the date?" Elizabeth felt anticipation growing in her.

"It tis the 27th of September. Might I inquire as to why?" Elizabeth shook her head. That was not what she wanted to know.

"No, I meant what year is it?"

"1811." Elizabeth felt the world begin to spin. How could this be Fitzwilliam Darcy? What was he doing in 2010?

"Miss Bennet, are you feeling ill?" Elizabeth closed her eyes. She listened to his way of talking and decided that he certainly was not from this time period. She picked up the newspaper.

"I think you should see this." Elizabeth gave him the newspaper and pointed out the date line. Elizabeth saw Fitzwilliam's shocked expression and wondered how this day could possibly get any worse.


	3. A New Home

I decided to post this chapter earily too. The last chapter got 9 reviews in about two days! This makes me so happy. Happy enough to post the next chapter! :):):):):):):):):):):) ENJOY!

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Darcy's POV

To say Darcy was shocked was the understatement of the year. There were no words to describe his feelings. He thought it was a joke. There was no way it could possibly be real. Darcy became resolute on the idea that he was being tricked. He looked at Elizabeth, ready to tell her off, but what he saw made him pause. She looked so pale and unsure, that he felt for her. His resolve lessened. She would have to be a fantastic actress to pull this off. Darcy put the newspaper down as if hoping that by not looking at it he could make it disappear. He looked down at Elizabeth, who was still rather close to him, and stared intently at her. She was rather pretty. Darcy mentally shook himself. He cleared his throat.

"Is this truly the date? Can it be nearly 200 years later then when I departed?" Darcy frowned and tried to wrap his brain around the nearly impossible truth.

"Yes." Elizabeth spoke so quietly that Darcy was unsure as to whether or not she had truly said anything. He felt something warm wrap around his hand and blushed when he realized Elizabeth had grabbed his hand. "Come with me. I need to show you something." Elizabeth pulled Darcy through the hallway and back into the study. She led him behind the desk. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. She pointed to the strange metal box on her desk. Darcy noted that it had the same sort of mirror like cover as the box in the living room. The only difference was that it did not reflect. Instead it showed something inside the box. He looked more closely and saw words in it. He bent down to read the words.

They were about him! And Georgiana. They told the story of him disappearing and of the death of Georgiana. Darcy felt tears come to his eyes as he thought of himself being the indirect means of her death. An arm wrapped around his shoulder, but Darcy never considered the impropriety of such an action. He sucked back his tears, like the gentleman he was, and carefully turned to face Elizabeth. They looked in each other's eyes for several minutes before either could say a word.

"I need to go home." Elizabeth nodded and offered him a small smile.

"I know. Can you tell me how you got here? Maybe I can help you get back." Darcy thought back, but couldn't remember what happened. He had been walking and had turned back. He hadn't made it home however. Somewhere he had blacked out. Darcy racked his brains for several minutes before finally giving up.

"I do not recall. I remember taking a walk and blacking out. That is all, I fear." Elizabeth sighed and looked away. Darcy stared at her wondering what was to happen.

"Well I suppose you will have to stay in this time for now." Darcy's stomach twisted as he thought of this world, so vastly different from all he knew. What was he to do? Where was he to go? Surly she would throw him out or call the police as she had threatened several times that day.

"I fear that must be so. I will intrude on your time no longer. I shall betake myself to another dwelling. Thank you very much for your... hospitality. Goodbye Miss Bennet." Darcy moved to the door of the study dejectedly. He knew full well that he would not last very long in this strange world. Maybe he didn't want to.

"Whoa! Hold up, Fitzwilliam!" Darcy felt Elizabeth's strong grasp on him once again. Darcy could not remember any time that a woman had touched him so frequently. "Where do you think you're going? Do you really think you can survive in this world? No, you need all the help you can get." Darcy was slightly insulted by her speech, but he was happy none the less. He knew her words were true.

"Listen, I'll help you. You can stay here. That way you will be close to whatever portal brought you here. You are more likely to get home that way. Plus, I'm the only one who know the truth about where you're from. Do you expect others to believe you?" Darcy's heart soared. He could not believe he had ever thought this woman rude, mad or even unfeeling in the slightest.

"If I am to stay, you will teach me the ways of your world? I would like to, at the very least, attempt to seem equal with these people." Elizabeth began to laugh at the conclusion of this speech. Darcy glared at her and sighed, angry feelings returning. "It is usually considered very improper to laugh at a sound request. You may reply in the negative, but to laugh is to expose the person to censure."

"I think your idea is splendid. It was just how you phrased it that caused me to laugh. People don't talk like that anymore. I would have said, 'Will you teach me how to act normal? I would like to fit in', or something like that. Do you see the difference, Fitzwilliam?" Darcy thought about it and realized that what she had said was true. She had spoken different from him the entire time. Darcy swallowed his pride.

"I want to be normal. Will you teach me? How was that, Miss Bennet." Elizabeth looked astonished. She released his arm and began to clap loudly and wildly.

"Cool! Now the next step is to stop calling me Miss Bennet. We are friends, Fitzwilliam," Darcy gave a small start. They were friends? They hadn't know each other for over an hour. This world was certainly weird. "And now a days we call most people by their first names. Mister, Misses, and Miss are only used for a select few people, mostly teachers, your boss or someone like that. Call me Elizabeth." Darcy processed this information with a very puzzled air. Following her order was to go against the manners which had been drilled into him as a child. Yet Darcy knew that he had to follow her orders if he was ever to survive this strange world.

"As you wish, Miss Elizabeth." Elizabeth glared at him. Darcy raised an eyebrow not understanding what he did wrong. Elizabeth sighed.

"Try, 'Ok Elizabeth'." Darcy frowned, but once again he complied.

"Ok Elizabeth." Elizabeth smiled.

"Much better. I have one more thing to point out before we can call it quits for the day. We don't really use Miss or Misses anymore. It is more polite to say Ms. That works for either a married or single woman." Darcy nodded processing all he had learned.

"If I am to comply with these terms, might I have one of my own?" Darcy was slightly uneasy asking this question. He did not fear she would say no, but he feared she would laugh at him once again. In 1812, Fitzwilliam Darcy was never one to be laughed at.

"Of course. What do you want?"

"Will you refrain, I mean stop, calling me Fitzwilliam? I have never truly liked the name and hardly anyone has ever called me by it. Can you call me Darcy?" Elizabeth did not laugh at him, as he was expecting. Instead she gave him a smile, not an amused smile, a very genuine and friendly smile. Darcy felt much more confidant.

"That's fine by me." She glanced at her watch quickly. "I think that's enough lessons for now. Let's go take a break."

* * *

Elizabeth's POV

Darcy had turned pale. Elizabeth stood by him to make sure everything was alright. He had to believe, though it would be hard, he could hardly think otherwise. Darcy put the newspaper down and turned to stare at her. Elizabeth grew slightly uncomfortable at the scrutiny. Darcy cleared his throat.

"Is this truly the date? Can it be nearly 200 years later then when I departed?" Elizabeth could tell that Darcy was in denial. Elizabeth didn't have to guess why. How was someone supposed to react when they find out they have traveled almost 200 years into the future?

"Yes." Elizabeth barley breathed the word. She stood at a loss for words. Elizabeth wrapped a hand around one of his in a comforting gesture. Darcy blushed slightly as he looked down at their intertwined hands. "Come with me. I need to show you something." Elizabeth began to pull him away towards the study. He needed more proof and she knew exactly how to provide it.

She pulled Darcy behind her desk and pointed at the computer screen. Darcy seemed to be fascinated by the computer and it was a minute before he noticed the words on the screen. Elizabeth watched sympathetically as his face grew more and more sad. She carefully put an arm around him in the hope to comfort him. She could see his eyes watering but he sucked them back with a great effort. He turned to stare at her seeking comfort in her eyes.

"I need to go home." Elizabeth nodded at him and smiled sadly. She could hardly have expected otherwise.

"I know. Can you tell me how you got here? Maybe I can help you get back." Elizabeth wanted to help this man. She knew how it was to be taken away from all of ones family and friends. It was a misery that was impossible to forget. And to find out about the death of a loved one through a source such as a news article? She could relate to this as well. What he was facing was not so very different from her own past.

"I do not recall. I remember taking a walk and blacking out. That is all, I fear." Elizabeth gave a sigh and looked away trying to brainstorm an idea or explanation. She could think of nothing.

"Well I suppose you will have to stay in this time for now." Darcy's face nearly crumpled as he acknowledged her to be right. He looked frightened.

"I fear that must be so. I will intrude on your time no longer. I shall betake myself to another dwelling. Thank you very much for your... hospitality. Goodbye Miss Bennet." Darcy stood and moved away from her, intending to leave to room and the house. Elizabeth's mind whirled as she tried to understand how he could have misconstructed her meaning. She had been offering him a place to stay. Did he not want to accept her offer? Did he have any choice?

Whoa! Hold up, Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth jumped up and seized his arm. Her nature would not let him go. If she did, she would be the indirect means of his death. She couldn't let that happen. "Where do you think you're going? Do you really think you can survive in this world? No, you need all the help you can get." Her tone was perhaps a bit sharper and more insulting then normal, but she had to make sure he stayed.

"Listen, I'll help you. You can stay here. That way you will be close to whatever portal brought you here. You are more likely to get home that way. Plus I'm the only one who know the truth about where you're from. Do you expect others to believe you?" Elizabeth's tone was more gentle as she said this. The look on his face expressed such happiness, that Elizabeth could not help but feel for the man. He had been stranded in not only a strange place, but also a strange time.

"If I am to stay, you will teach me the ways of your world? I would like to, at the very least, attempt to seem equal with these people." Even though she feel for his pains and sufferings, Elizabeth could not repress her nature, once again. The contradictions between his meaning and speech was so great that Elizabeth nearly fell to the floor in laughter. The laughter only increased at his next words. "It is usually considered very improper to laugh at a sound request. You may reply in the negative, but to laugh is to expose the person to censure." When finally Elizabeth could stop laughing she replied.

"I think your idea is splendid. It was just how you phrased it that caused me to laugh. People don't talk like that anymore. I would have said, 'Will you teach me how to act normal? I would like to fit in', or something like that. Do you see the difference, Fitzwilliam?" The look on Darcy's face made Elizabeth fairly certain that he would not change his ways to suit her. Normally she couldn't care less, but with his manner of speaking, Darcy would stick out like a sore thumb.

"I want to be normal. Will you teach me? How was that, Miss Bennet." Elizabeth's jaw dropped as Darcy gave an effort to follow her instructions. She had expected them to be blown off. She let go of his arm and began to applaud. Emboldened by his attempts to adapt to her world, Elizabeth decided to try to own in a few more general rules.

"Cool! Now the next step is to stop calling me Miss Bennet. We are friends, Fitzwilliam, and now a days we call most people by their first names. Mister, Misses, and Miss are only used for a select few people, mostly teachers, your boss or someone like that. Call me Elizabeth." These instructions seemed nearly incomprehensible to Darcy. She could tell he was trying to memorize them.

"As you wish, Miss Elizabeth." Elizabeth gave him a glare. They were all the way back at square one again. He looked generally puzzled and Elizabeth sighed as she realized that he had no idea what he had done wrong.

"Try, 'Ok Elizabeth'." Darcy frowned at the words, clearly frustrated by the speech of the future. Elizabeth smiled encouragingly at him.

"Much better. I have one more thing to point out before we can call it quits for the day. We don't really use Miss or Misses anymore. It is more polite to say Ms. That works for either a married or single woman." Darcy only nodded and Elizabeth decided that it was time to end lessons for the day.

"If I am to comply with these terms, might I have one of my own?" Elizabeth wondered why Darcy could possibly want from her. He seemed so nervous that Elizabeth complied nearly immediately.

"Of course. What do you want?" Darcy's face showed some relief at her approval. Elizabeth wondered what this man could possibly think of her. He had thought she was going to kick him out of the house into a strange world that would have, most likely, been the death of him. Now he seemed unsure of how she would react to a request he had for her. What could it be? It certainly discomposed him.

"Will you refrain, I mean stop, calling me Fitzwilliam? I have never truly liked the name and hardly anyone has ever called me by it. Can you call me Darcy?" Elizabeth smiled genuinely at him. She knew that few people call others by their first names in his time. She could see how it would be disconcerting. Calling him 'Darcy' was an apt compromise. It was not too formal for modern times, yet it could give Darcy some comfort.

"That's fine by me." A quick glance at her watch told her that it was time to call it quits and relax. "I think that's enough lessons for now. Let's go take a break." Maybe she could even show Darcy some of the modern advances. He would have to get used to them before long.

* * *

Well there you go. This chapter was a lot of talking, but it's nessisary. We'll start getting into some more action soon I hope. Darcy still has a lot to learn before he can leave Pemberley. Jane should make an apperence in a chapter or two.


	4. Electricity

This chapter is dedicated to Silly Bunny who made me finally sit down and write this.

I'm sorry it's been so long, but end of school finals etc. Plus I'm getting ready for my trip to Costa Rica. Time has been scarce. The time I've had is spilt among my 8 stories in progress (four unpublished ones). What I've had to work on this story wasn't very productive. I trashed nearly 20 versions of this chapter. This is the best one I can come up with.

In response to all of the people who find the repeated dialog annoying I might not do that any more, it depends. Also if I do add it in again I recommend you read Darcy's. I always want to know what both characters are thinking, but that's just me. With the split POVs it's like two stories for the price of one.

By the way, Pride and Prejudice does not exist in my story. There will be mentions of Jane Austen and her other works. Just not P&P.

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Darcy's POV

Elizabeth sat heavily in one of the padded armchairs that resided in the room. She looked up at Darcy and smiled. Darcy began to twist the signet ring on his pinkie, in an effort to channel his nervousness. He had no clue what to expect from this woman.

"We've certainly had an eventful morning. I think it's time to relax." As if to emphasize her point, Elizabeth stretched in her chair. She sighed and her eyes shut. Darcy couldn't help but stare at her. She looked so peaceful, with a small smile still gracing he lips. Darcy felt himself drawn to her. He wanted to touch her, take her in his arms, kiss those smiling lips, and... Darcy cut that thought off before it could get out of hand. Yes, she was very attractive, and wearing the most revealing clothing he had ever seen, but his stay here was only temporary. He would return home soon. And she had no place in his world. And he none in hers.

"So, Darcy, what to you do for fun?" Darcy jumped as she broke him out of his revive. He swallowed, with some difficulty and tried to formulate a response.

"I, at my estate, would read, take carriage rides or spend time with my sister or my cousin, though Richard often had the most fun, at my expense." Darcy smiled as he remembered his teasing cousin. He turned his glance once more to Elizabeth and was surprised to find her eyes on him, examining him. Could she read his mind? He wouldn't put it past her.

"Well I can't produce a carriage, or your sister or cousin. But I can tease you mercilessly in an effort to temporally replace your cousin." Darcy laughed. He had begun to like his new friend more and more. She did, somewhat, remind him of his cousin. "Reading I can do. I happen to have a library here, and as long as you stay, you are free to use it." Darcy favored her with another smile.

"Thank you." Darcy felt happiness bubble within him as he thought how lucky he was.

"So whatcha want to do first?" Darcy blinked rapidly several times. Was she speaking English?

"Pray, what does 'whatcha' mean?" Elizabeth stared at him for a second, until she burst out laughing.

"Oops, sorry. It's just habit to slip in some of those words. 'Whatcha', in that context, basically means 'what do you'." Darcy was puzzled. He still didn't understand the purpose of the word. Why combine perfectly good words to create a new word, when both ways had the same meaning? Wouldn't that just open up the conversation for misunderstandings? The combined word sounded extremely uncultured. Why use it?

"Let me try again." Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts. "What do you want to do?" Darcy pondered his answer to that question. What did he want to do? He wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but somehow he felt that, that answer would get him in trouble.

"Perhaps you could show me some of the," Darcy struggled for the word, "modern advancements?" He still had no clue as to how she would react to anything. She was by far, much different than anyone he had ever known.

Elizabeth seemed to have some idea of what to do, because she jumped out of her chair, the beautiful, infuriating, smile still present on her lips. A quick, "come on, back to the living room,"was all she gave before she bounced out the door with Darcy hard on her heels. He had a sudden wish that she would grab his hand and lead him to the room again, but she did not touch him.

In the living room, Elizabeth began to mess around with a small rectangular box. Suddenly a small green light appeared in the frame of the black mirror. Darcy stepped in front of the mirror to examine the light. Then, while Darcy was still puzzling over the small, colored light, the whole mirror became illuminated. Darcy jumped backward and nearly tripped over the carpet. He stared, open mouthed, at the spectacle before him. The light neither flickered or swayed in the slightest. It stayed constant and steady.

"How... how is this illuminated?" Darcy turned to see Elizabeth searching through a cabinet, completely unaware of the impossible sight.

"Ummm... electricity." Darcy frowned at the unfamiliar word.

"What is electricity?"

"Electricity is the phenomenon that results from the presence and flow of electric charge. Electronic charge is a property of subatomic particles, which determine electromagnetic interactions." Darcy stared at Elizabeth even more confused then before. He was a smart man, but this was not something he could have learned in the 1800s. After a few seconds Elizabeth looked up. She turned fully to him and began to laugh.

"You probably didn't understand a word I just said. Don't worry, most modern people wouldn't either and they don't have your good excuse. Let me try to rephrase that." Elizabeth paused and Darcy felt a bit relieved. It was not his fault that he couldn't understand her explanation.

"Electricity is the form of energy created by the movement of electrons." Elizabeth smiled, but it soon became a frown. "No, wait. You don't know what electrons are either." With a sigh she sat down on the floor. Darcy felt the need to help her.

"I believe I do understand the basic concept of what you are saying. Electricity is a form of energy like a fire, correct?" Elizabeth nodded with a smile of relief. "How does one produce electricity?"

"Lots of ways. Lightning is electrical, but we can't harness that. Solar panels take the energy from sunlight. Wind turbines generate it from wind. We can also you coal and natural gas. These are just a few ways." Darcy nodded, too tired to think any more. Elizabeth picked something up and began to fiddle with the illuminated mirror.

"What is that thing called?" Darcy said when he could not suppress his curiosity any longer.

"This? This is a Television or TV." Darcy's question about the purpose of the machine died on his lips as the face of the TV transformed. Sound began to play all around him and Darcy gasped as the picture on the screen kept moving. Words appeared. The largest was all he could read before Elizabeth did something and it all disappeared. _Persuasion._

"Just so you understand, this is a movie. It is like a book in that it tells a story, only it actually shows you what happens. You haven't read the book, Persuasion, have you?" Darcy started at the seemingly random question.

"I have in fact. Georgiana made me read it."

"Good. You should be able to keep up then." The TV began to play again and Darcy watched entranced as the picture moved. It was like he was really there. Every once in a while Elizabeth would speak up to tell him about something, like the credits, but mostly she left him to enjoy the movie. He was amazed to see that it was in fact the story of Persuasion acted out. He laughed and smiled and found himself drawn in to the story. Maybe life in 2010 wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Elizabeth's POV

Elizabeth threw herself down in her favorite leather chair. It helped her relax after the stress of the morning. She smiled at Darcy who was fidgeting nervously with his hands. However hard this was for her, she knew it had to be all the more for him. There was still so much he didn't know.

"We've certainly had an eventful morning. I think it's time to relax." Elizabeth stretched to find a more comfortable position in her chair. She sighed quietly as some of her stress melted away. Her eyes drifted close and she smiled dreamily. Though her eyes were closed she could still see Darcy. He was so handsome. He was tall and dark, exactly her type. His eyes were like emeralds that sparkled and gleamed in the light. She could lose herself in their depths... She inwardly chastised herself for those thoughts.

"So, Darcy, what to you do for fun?" She said this more to distract herself from her wayward thoughts then to start a conversation.

"I, at my estate, would read, take carriage rides or spend time with my sister or my cousin, though Richard often had the most fun, at my expense." Elizabeth wondered why he was so nervous. Did he know what she had been thinking? She opened her eyes to look at him, cocking her head slightly.

"Well I can't produce a carriage, or your sister or cousin. But I can tease you mercilessly in an effort to temporally replace your cousin." She smiled at him, and expected a smile in response, but instead she was met with laughter more beautiful than she had ever known. She blinked quickly to clear her head. "Reading I can do. I happen to have a library here, and as long as you stay, you are free to use it." Thankfully Darcy's laughter died down, allowing her to think coherently again.

"Thank you." Elizabeth barley suppressed a gasp at this amazingly sincere and heartfelt sentiment. She had seen so many faces of this man in the past hour. There had been the rude man who barged into her study just an hour ago. Then he was replaced by the insecure and heartbroken man. Then he had been all laughter and smiles. Now finally he was the caring sincere man who was thanking her for much more than the use of her library.

"So whatcha want to do first?" Darcy looked puzzled, but Elizabeth couldn't imagine why.

"Pray, what does 'whatcha' mean?" Elizabeth paused as she remembered what she had said. When it came back to her it was all she could do to stay in her chair she was laughing so hard.

"Oops, sorry. It's just habit to slip in some of those words. 'Whatcha', in that context, basically means 'what do you'." Elizabeth attempted to explain it, but it seemed Darcy was just as confused as before. Knowing she was fighting a losing battle, Elizabeth thought the best course of action was surrender.

"Let me try again. What do you want to do?" Darcy's face adopted a thoughtful expression and he stole a glance at her, probably hoping she wouldn't notice. She did. She rolled her eyes and hoped he would be sensible. If he offered her some comment about spending time with her, the respect he had gained would crumble.

"Perhaps you could show me some of the," Darcy paused, "modern advancements?" Elizabeth's mind raced as she wondered what he would like to do. Exactly how was she supposed to explain modern advancements to a man from the 1800s? She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Suddenly inspiration struck. Everyone likes movies. It would be a way to introduce photography, moving pictures, electricity,and some other modern inventions. She instructed Darcy to follow her and left the study once again for the living room.

Once they were in the living room, Elizabeth turned on the TV and began pawing through the DVDs looking for something that Darcy would have an easy time understanding. Shakespeare, Austen, maybe some Bronte.

"How... how is this illuminated?" Elizabeth didn't even look up from her searching. The TV lighting up was no great miracle to her.

"Ummm... electricity." Elizabeth said vaguely not really paying attention to Darcy.

"What is electricity?" Elizabeth finally paused her searching. How was she supposed to answer that?

"Electricity is the phenomenon that results from the presence and flow of electric charge. Electronic charge is a property of subatomic particles, which determine electromagnetic interactions." Elizabeth had always liked to see how things worked. She had been fascinated with electricity, gears, and machines in general. After a minute her brain caught up with her automatic response and she realized that most people, Darcy included, would never understand what she just said. Whoops. Elizabeth began to laugh at her own silly mistake.

"You probably didn't understand a word I just said. Don't worry, most modern people wouldn't either and they don't have your good excuse. Let me try to rephrase that." Elizabeth thought hard, but rephrasing something is almost always hard then you would think. Finally she was able to make it easier to understand.

"Electricity is the form of energy created by the movement of electrons." Elizabeth allowed a smug smile to take over her face. It was soon replaced by a frown as she found a flaw with her definition. "No, wait. You don't know what electrons are either." She felt like smacking herself on the forehead, but her hands were full. That would have to wait until next time.

"I believe I do understand the basic concept of what you are saying. Electricity is a form of energy like a fire, correct?" Elizabeth nodded filled with relief. Thank goodness he was a smart man. "How does one produce electricity?"

"Lots of ways. Lightning is electrical, but we can't harness that. Solar panels take the energy from sunlight. Wind turbines generate it from wind. We can also you coal and natural gas. These are just a few ways." Darcy nodded, but Elizabeth assumed that it was just in acceptance, not total understanding. This was far too much information to load into his already overtaxed brain. Elizabeth picked up her movie choice and set it up. She could feel Darcy's curious gaze on him, but she was afraid of giving him too much information. How much could he stand?

"What is that thing called?" Elizabeth was startled by his question, but she answered it anyway.

"This? This is a Television or TV." She sat down next to him on the couch and pressed play, effectively silencing him. It was amusing to watch his facial expressions as he gazed enraptured at the screen. The menu appeared and in large letters Elizabeth saw the title, Persuasion. It was one of her favorites.

"Just so you understand, this is a movie. It is like a book in that it tells a story, only it actually shows you what happens. You haven't read the book, Persuasion, have you?" She hoped he had, but didn't believe that he would have. It would make the story much easier to follow if he did know the story. Not that she thought he read romance novels.

"I have in fact. Georgiana made me read it." Elizabeth let out a quiet sigh of relief. This was a good choice.

"Good. You should be able to keep up then." Elizabeth played the movie, but she spent more time watching he companion then the movie. She explained things like makeup and sets, but she mostly allowed him to view the movie in silence. He seemed to be accepting modern things very well. She only hoped it would last.

* * *

Ok, not my favorite chapter, but it's the best I could do. I am proud to announce that I have been working on this story and I have the last chapter done! :-) Now all I need to do is write the chapters in between now and the last one. :-P

I know Darcy is accepting things rather easily, but don't worry, there is way too much for him to process and it is leading to a mental breakdown. Where and when this happens is the question.

Thanks for reading! :-) :-) :-)


	5. The First Night

Sorry it took so long, but I've been focusing on my other story since it's near completion. I promise I will not abandon this story. It might have some delays, however.

I know some people don't like the split POVs that I'm using for this story, but I've decided that they are going to stay. Even if I cut one out, I wouldn't use third person, so _please_ stop asking.

* * *

Darcy's POV

Darcy could feel his eyes drifting close as Elizabeth put in another of those discs that he had long forgotten the name for. His overtaxed brain blurring slightly as he began to unconsciously lean over. Somehow, his head found a resting place on Elizabeth's shoulder, and, throwing propriety to the wind, he was content to let it stay there. His last conscious thought was of how soft her shoulder was and how right it felt.

The birds chirping just outside his window woke him the next morning. His eyes remained closed and he simply continued to lay on the bed. His valet would be in soon to wake him, but for now, he was happy to revisit the very odd dream he had last night. An unconscious smile lighted his face as he thought over the absurdities that his mind had conjured. 2010? As if it was possible to travel into the future. Electricity? Where had such fanciful ideas come from? As if there could be light without fire or sun. How ridiculous.

What about Elizabeth? His mind had conjured her too. She must simply be the opposite of all he hated in society's women. Where they were stuck up, she was causal and free. They were dull and uninteresting. She was always doing something unexpected. Most women he knew were bitter and spiteful. Elizabeth had been jovial, with ready smiles and laughter. The women he had known were mere shells, while Elizabeth had life. They were full of artifice, while she was real.

_'Well not completely real I suppose. Just a figment of my imagination.' _Darcy thought ruefully, but also with a touch of regret. It pained him to think that the woman who was everything he could have wished for, was no more than fantasy.

Georgianna would be amused by the dream, so would Fitzwilliam. Though perhaps he should keep Elizabeth to himself. It was hard enough to justify her lack of proper apparel to himself, let alone his relations. Not to mention her very unladylike actions.

Where was his valet? Darcy opened his eyes, before quickly shutting them again. It was very bright. Had he forgotten to close his bed curtains last night? He steeled himself to open his eyes once again in order to locate the curtains, but they were not there. He was not in his own bed. Nor was he in any room of his house. Where was he?

Had he gone to visit a friend and was currently staying at their home? It was not a room he had ever seen before. Bingley had been searching for a new estate, perhaps he had found one and Darcy went to visit. Why could he not remember? The last think he could recall was taking a walk through Pemberley's grounds. There had been something white… no that was part of his dream. Where did the dream begin and reality end?

Maybe he had gotten sick, while walking and was taken to an apothecary's. Or found by someone who did not know him. He would have to just wait. Eventually someone would have to come.

It was only a few minutes later when a quiet knock made him jump. He was to startled too reply at first.

"Hey, are you awake yet?" Darcy gasped as the woman from his dream entered the room.

"Who… w-who are you?" She gave him a strange look.

"I thought we had already been introduced."

"Elizabeth." He whispered, his heart in his throat. She nodded. Darcy paled. Perhaps it had not been a dream after all.

"Where am I?"

"Didn't we go through all of this yesterday?" Was it all true, then? Was he really in Pemberley in 2010? With Elizabeth? "Are you feeling ok? Did you hit your head recently or what?" Darcy shook his head to clear it.

"I'm sorry. I thought that this all had been a dream." Darcy frowned and looked down. In truth he was very disappointed that it was real. Though it did make him feel a bit more sane. He didn't voice these opinions, because he didn't want to offend Elizabeth. She was his only means of survival now.

"Well, listen. Jane's coming here. Now that you are awake, we can get you fitted for some new clothes." Darcy's head shot up. New clothes?

"Pray, what is wrong with the clothes I am currently wearing?" Elizabeth scoffed lightly.

"Do you really want to wear those clothes for your entire stay? Don't you ever want to see the world outside of Pemberley?" Darcy had to acknowledge that she was right. He had no idea how long he was staying in this surreal place.

* * *

Elizabeth's POV

When the movie was over, Elizabeth looked over to her companion and saw him fight to stay awake. She knew he must be extremely tired, so she made no attempt at conversation. Instead, she put in another DVD to watch while she waited for him to stop fighting the losing battle of staying awake. 'Sense and Sensibility' flashed up on the screen. Another of her favorites.

She had lost herself in the story, and forgot all about her companion, until she was startled to feel his head come to rest on her shoulder. She turned her head to look down on him. A small smile hovered around his lips, and his brown hair, though short, tickled her nose as she looked at him. Thinking it too cruel to wake him, she continued to watch the movie, his head remaining on her shoulder.

Once the movie was over, she was faced with the problem of what to do with him. The couch, though comfortable, would nowhere near accommodate his six foot height. And there was no way she was going to sit here all night with him. Quietly she summoned her housekeeper.

"Hill? Hill, I need your help." The combined work of the two ladies was just enough to move Darcy to one of the guest rooms.

"Who is he, Miss?" Hill asked, formal as ever.

"His name is Fitzwilliam Darcy. Beyond that, I'm not sure what to tell you, or what you'd believe." In the living room once more, Elizabeth explained all she knew, and all that she had guessed.

"It is a good thing you're doing. Don't worry. We'll figure out some way to get him home." Elizabeth hugged Hill silently, putting all of her thanks into that action. Hill looked slightly flustered when they parted. Still, it wasn't long before her mother hen instincts returned. "Oh my, it's past ten. You best be getting to bed, if you're going to wake at a decent hour. Obediently Elizabeth went to bed.

Elizabeth unfailingly woke at five each morning, and the next day was no different, even after the late night and excitement of yesterday. The first thing she decided to do was to call Jane. Darcy would need some new clothes very soon, and Jane was one of the few people that Elizabeth trusted completely.

"What do you need Elizabeth?" Jane's slurred tones indicated that she was very near sleep.

"Don't be too enthusiastic to hear from me. It's only been what, three months?"

"Perhaps if you didn't call at such an ungodly hour I might be happier to hear from you." Elizabeth laughed.

"Jane, it's five-thirty."

"See! Way too early!"

"Whatever happened to my angelic sister who used to wake me up at the crack of dawn to watch to sunrise, or even in the middle of the night to see the fireflies?" Jane chuckled at the picture Elizabeth presented.

"You were always the one to drag me places while I was half awake. All I ever wanted to do was sleep." Both sisters lapsed into silence, until Elizabeth began to worry that Jane had fallen asleep again.

"Jane?"

"Was there a purpose to call me, other than deprive me of my beauty sleep?" Elizabeth laughed at her sister. While Jane was angelic nearly every other time of the day, if she was waken up she became very grouchy. Which Elizabeth found very funny. Jane was usually less than amused.

"Like you need any beauty sleep. Well, actually I called to ask if you're free to come by sometime today. There's someone here who needs some new clothes. I can't explain it all right now."

"I can be there at eleven. Will that work, or do I actually have to get out of my nice, soft, cozy, warm, comfortable, warm…"

"Alright already. Come by whenever works for you. Is Charlie with you?"

"Hmm…." Elizabeth chuckled. She had reached Jane's limit for conversation for this morning.

"I can see that I have lost your attention. Well, sweet dreams. See you later." Elizabeth hung up after a few minutes of silence. She was not sure if Jane even heard what she had said. She grabbed a book and began to read. There was not much to do at six in the morning. For some reason, not very many people seemed willing to get up that early.

At nine-thirty, Elizabeth decided to see if Darcy was up yet. She doubted that he would have any idea of how to make breakfast, since he had been a gentleman. He probably had never worked a day in his life.

Cautiously she knocked on the door, not wanting to wake him, if he was still sleeping. There was no reply, but she entered the room, just to be sure.

"Hey, are you awake yet?" Darcy gasped causing Elizabeth to look down at her appearance. Was she not fully dressed? No she had on all the necessary articles. What was his problem?

"Who… w-who are you?" Elizabeth started. After all she had done for him he had forgotten her already? Perhaps he had short term memory loss?

"I thought we had already been introduced."

"Elizabeth." She nodded, one eyebrow raised.

"Where am I?" She scoffed lightly

"Didn't we go through all of this yesterday?" Darcy suddenly paled, and Elizabeth feared that he had become sick. "Are you feeling ok? Did you hit your head recently or what?" Darcy shook his head, and Elizabeth took that as a reply to her question.

"I'm sorry. I thought that this all had been a dream." Elizabeth's eyes softened as Darcy looked down. It was normal for his brain not to accept such a strange series of events.

"Well, listen. Jane's coming here. Now that you are awake, we can get you fitted for some new clothes." Darcy's eyes met hers, confusion their primary emotion.

"Pray, what is wrong with the clothes I am currently wearing?" Elizabeth could think of a hundred things wrong with them. For one thing, they were his only outfit. Not to mention the wrinkles he had gotten by sleeping in them. Or the dirt that was still on his jacket from yesterday. Also he would draw stares if she let him walk down the street in such dated clothes.

"Do you really want to wear those clothes for your entire stay? Don't you ever want to see the world outside of Pemberley?" Darcy nodded absently, and she took it as resignation.

* * *

The ending isn't so great, but I promise to write (and post) the next chapter by next weekend.


	6. Breakfast

Sorry this took so long, but it was written on time, but I was so busy before the vacation that I didn't have time to post. After I got back, the chapter was forgotten. I have been attempting to write this chapter, but it never seemed to work. Finally, while I was browsing my writing, I came across this chapter, completed and just waiting. So here it is. Better late than never. Sorry it's short.

* * *

Darcy's POV

"Well? Come on." Elizabeth leaned on the doorframe, waiting. Darcy colored lightly. He had taken off his overcoat, waistcoat and cravat before going to bed, as he had no night clothes to change into. He was acutely aware that he was not properly attired, and should not be seen by a lady. In fact, she should not be in his bedchamber at all. "Get up! You need to have breakfast before Jane gets here, because, heaven knows, you won't get a chance once she starts."

"Perhaps you should leave?" He phrased it as a question, because, as much as he hated to admit it, the woman intimidated him a little. "I am not fit to be seen by a lady." Surely she would understand.

"You sleep naked?" Darcy's face flushed a darker shade of red. He could not believe that she had just said that. Perhaps she was not a gentlewoman? He was pleased to see that her face was flushed as well. She must have realized the error of her words.

"No, you misunderstand me. I am simply not suitably attired."

"That's why Jane's coming. She will fit you for some new clothes." Why did she not understand him? Could she not see that he wished her to leave so he could dress?

"Do you not have a manservant who could assist me?"

"Nope." She said, far too cheerfully in Darcy's opinion. "No one here but Hill. I'm a rather independent person so I do not need servants to hover around me. Or to dress me." Darcy was surprised to hear a slight hint of venom in her tone as she added the last part. He didn't understand what he had said to anger her. He didn't understand most of her reactions though.

"I-" His words died in his throat as Elizabeth walked over to the side of the bed. She gave him a seductive smile that sent chills down his spine. She grabbed both his hands that were lying on the covers. He felt their warmth and had to admit that he liked the sensation.

"Get. Up." She pulled his hands sharply, pulling his whole body out of bed. In an effort to prevent himself from tumbling to the floor, he grabbed at her shoulders. When he stood, he found himself far too close to her. He colored in mortification at the breach of propriety, but she seemed unconcerned.

"Next time I ask you to get out of bed, kindly do it." She shrugged her shoulders out from his grip and grabbed his hand once more, leading him from the room before he could grab his coat or cravat. After navigating her way to a room Darcy was not familiar with. She let go of his hand, and he immediately felt the loss. After indicating that he should sit at the table, she began to open cabinets, searching for something.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Darcy looked around the unfamiliar room in wonder.

"Do you not have a menu?" Elizabeth turned to face him, and he saw confusion on her face. Didn't she plan her meals?

"What does this look like? A restaurant?" This time, Darcy understood the satire in her words. They were not meant to insult. He had to remind himself that this place was very different than the one he knew.

"I mean, there should be a plan for the meals, each one having been thought out in advance, giving the cook time to prepare it." He paused, worried that he might offend her by the next remark, but his curiosity would not be contained. "Where is the cook?" Elizabeth gave his a 'look' and turned her back on him again.

"You're looking at her." Darcy stared at her back wonderingly. She did so much work around the house, it seemed. Cooking, cleaning, and apparently repair work, as he had first seen her working under a desk.

"I was under the assumption that you were the mistress of the house." She whipped away from what she had been occupied with to look at him, her eyes hard. Darcy shifted in his seat, not liking the power she held over him.

"Who says I'm not. It is my house, so if I want to cook, no one is going to stop me. Plus I don't really need a cook to help me make toast." She took the plate that held her food and set it on the table across from him. He watched her make more food and wondered what it was for. He did not ask the question, because he felt the tension in the air, and decided that it was not worth the risk.

* * *

Elizabeth's POV

"Well? Come on." Elizabeth relaxed as she waited for him to move. Her foot tapped impatiently as he failed to react. "Get up! You need to have breakfast before Jane gets here, because, heaven knows, you won't get a chance once she starts." Once Jane got started, there was no stopping until either they were done or she collapsed with exhaustion. Elizabeth knew from experience that, if unprepared, you would simply have to live with the discomfort.

"Perhaps you should leave?" Elizabeth blinked at his suggestion. By the way he continued to lounge in the bed; she would not be surprised if he were to fall back asleep. She had little sympathy with late sleepers. It was ten-o-clock. _She_ had already been up five hours."I am not fit to be seen by a lady." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She knew that back in the 1800s they had very different ideas about appropriate appeal. Still, she decided to tease him and see what happened.

"You sleep naked?" Elizabeth felt her teasing was very well worth it, as she watched Darcy change color. Her own face turned red as she struggled to hold back laughter.

"No, you misunderstand me. I am simply not suitably attired."

"That's why Jane's coming. She will fit you for some new clothes." Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the frustrated expression that crossed Darcy's face. She was becoming a little irritated as well.

"Do you not have a manservant who could assist me?" He needed a servant to help him dress? Were his clothes really that complicated, or perhaps he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"Nope." She said in a smugly cheerful tone. She had no use for a multitude of servants. She had learned to take care of herself. "No one here but Hill. I'm a rather independent person so I do not need servants to hover around me. Or to dress me." A touch of venom leaked into her words. Darcy had not moved since she had woken him. She did not like when people repeatedly disobeyed her.

"I-" Elizabeth walked over to him and stood close to him. She smiled at him, and gently took both of his hands in her own. Darcy seemed to tense as she did so.

"Get. Up." She was quite sick of his disobliging attitude. Without ceremony she yanked him from under the covers and out of bed all together. He stumbled forward and grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to keep himself upright. She could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of her shirt and tensed slightly.

"Next time I ask you to get out of bed, kindly do it." She pulled herself away from his grasp, but intertwined their hands as she made to leave to room. He would follow her to the kitchen, whether he wanted to or not.

She led him to the table and began searching for something to make for breakfast.

"What would you like for breakfast?" She kept her back to him as she asked, popping two slices of bread in the toaster.

"Do you not have a menu?" Elizabeth turned back to him. Her brow furrowed.

"What does this look like? A restaurant?"

"I mean, there should be a plan for the meals, each one having been thought out in advance, giving the cook time to prepare it." Darcy paused, and then seemed to feel the need to continue. "Where is the cook?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and turned back to her toast, which had just popped.

"You're looking at her." Darcy was silent, but Elizabeth still busied herself with her toast.

"I was under the assumption that you were the mistress of the house." Elizabeth turned away from her newly buttered toast and stared Darcy down, enjoying watching him squirm under her intense gaze.

"Who says I'm not. It is my house, so if I want to cook, no one is going to stop me. Plus I don't really need a cook to help me make toast." She grabbed her tray and set it on the table, before popping in two more pieces of bread. After sitting down again, she proceeded to eat in silence, and Darcy did nothing to alleviate it.

* * *

Hope you liked it. The next chapter is planed and should hopefully be updated soon (and yes I know I said that last time). Just trust me. I'll do my best.


	7. Jane and Charlie

Where have I been? Life has interrupted the story and I've had an incredible case of writers block. This is all I've got at the moment. Sorry it took so long.

* * *

Darcy's POV

Darcy had just been finishing up his last piece of toast, when he heard a bell, signifying that someone had come to call. He stood and, leaving his plate on the table, and quietly moved to the stairs, where he would have an unobstructed view of the front door. Somewhat to his surprise, it was Elizabeth who opened the door, to let in the guests. Darcy began to unconsciously gravitate to the bottom of the steps as he watched Elizabeth nearly tackle the female guest.

"Jane!" She cried in excitement. The other woman, apparently Jane, let out a chuckle at the enthusiastic greeting.

"Lizzy, what am I going to do with you?" Jane's affectionate tone ruined the scolding she was attempting.

"Where's Charlie?" Darcy felt a momentary start as Elizabeth asked the question. His mind was reeling with questions. Who was Charlie? Her husband? No, she wore no ring. Did they have some kind of understanding? And most importantly, why did he care?

Jane's answer was rendered unnecessary as a tall man, with short blond hair entered the room, a jovial smile gracing his face. With that silly expression he looked a lot like is friend Bingley.

"Charlie!" Elizabeth ran to him and enveloped him in a bear hug. Unlike Jane, Charlie seemed ready for this enthusiasm.

"Lizzy, how are you?" Elizabeth seemed to remain in his embrace for hours, as Darcy watched.

"I'm great." She turned around, and spotted him at the foot of the steps, half obscured by shadow. "This is Darcy." He sighed, but knew that now he had been introduced, he would have to meet these people. He didn't want to, but he knew now that Elizabeth was not someone to disobey. "Darcy, this is my sister Jane and her boyfriend, and my old friend, Charlie." Darcy bowed politely, but was somewhat disconcerted by the expressions on his companion's faces. Both Jane and Charlie seemed rather confused by his gesture, and neither returned it. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but Darcy could see amusement in them.

"Come on," Elizabeth was the first to speak, "we have work to do." Jane cast her eyes up and down his apparel critically, and nodded.

"We certainly do!"

As they followed Elizabeth to the room, Charlie fell in step with her and they had a very lively conversation but, Darcy felt less anger at the man knowing he had an understanding with her sister. Jane was walking beside Darcy, and continually made him stop and turn. They quickly fell behind the others. Even when they were walking, Darcy was discomforted to feel her eyes on him. After what seemed like hours, they arrived to the room, which Darcy recognized as Richard's room.

* * *

Elizabeth's POV

She heard the door bell ring and flew to the door to answer it. It had been far too long since she had seen Jane last. Jane had not gotten two steps inside the door before Elizabeth's overenthusiastic greeting was called.

"Jane!" Jane let out a small grunt as the air was knocked out of her lungs by Elizabeth's hug, but she chuckled as her sister released her.

"Lizzy, what am I going to do with you?" Elizabeth just smiled. Jane could never scold anyone for anything, as long as she was full awake.

"Where's Charlie?" He was the only thing missing to make this meeting perfect. Jane could not get a better boyfriend in Elizabeth's opinion.

Jane didn't get a chance to answer as he had walked through the door even as she asked the question. He too was in for a very affectionate greeting. He was her best childhood friend after all.

"Charlie!" Elizabeth's hug was received in a way that caused nether party any pain. This feat was only achieved through years of practice on the receiver's part.

"Lizzy, how are you?" The embrace ended far too soon for the both of them. Charlie had been away on vacation with Jane, and had not seen Elizabeth for over five months.

"I'm great." Elizabeth turned to call to Darcy, so they could meet each other sooner rather than later, but he stood at the bottom of the steps already, watching the greetings. His mood looked dark, but Elizabeth could fathom no reason for it. "This is Darcy." The man seemed reluctant to walk to them, but came all the same. "Darcy, this is my sister Jane and her boyfriend, and my old friend, Charlie." To her infinite amusement, Darcy bowed to them. Both Jane and Charlie looked at her, as if to say 'where did you find this character?' Elizabeth just smiled at them. She would tell them both later. Darcy stood awkwardly, but seemed not to understand where he went wrong.

"Come on, we have work to do." Elizabeth decided to break the awkward silence. She led the way to Jane's preferred room. Charlie fell into step with her and they caught up on all that had happened in the past months that they had been away. After telling all of the most prominent things, Charlie turned around to look at Darcy. He smirked with amusement as he watched Jane stall in the hallway to make him turn and the discomfort that shown in his face.

"What's up with Darcy?" Charlie asked once they had begun walking again. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"He's not from around here." Charlie just laughed.

"I figured that. Where's he from?" Elizabeth sighed. Charlie was always the one to believe her and trust what she had to say, once he was sure it wasn't a joke, but this was a bit more extreme.

"England." Charlie stopped and turned to look at her in full.

"There's something you're not telling me. You can't lie to me and you know it. I was just in England, I know that they don't bow when introduced and they don't walk around in such ridiculous clothes." Elizabeth began walking again, leaving Charlie no choice but to follow her. They reached the door of Jane's work room, but neither Jane nor Darcy was in sight. Charlie continued to stare at her expectantly.

"Ok, fine. Darcy is from England," here Charlie attempted to cut her off, but she waved a hand to silence him, "1812." Charlie froze, blinked several times, before breaking out into peals of laughter.

"That's really funny," he gasped between laughs. "You almost had me going for a second there." He turned to look at Elizabeth, expecting to see her laughing too, or at least, smiling, but her face was grave.

"It is not a joke. I don't know how it's possible, but he really is from 1812." Charlie's laughter died quickly. Elizabeth could never lie to him with any success, but these words were not lies. What she said was true, or at least _she_ believed it was.

"Liz, you're not serious are you." He asked her warily.

* * *

Why has this story not been updated in a while. Well, I don't really like it, so writing and putting a lot of effort into it is hard. But the most important reason is that I really can't think of many ideas for this story. I have the history for both Pemberley and Elizabeth planned along with the ending. I have a very fuzzy idea of what will happen next chapter, but other than that, I have no clue.

If anyone has any ideas please share them! Nothing is a bad idea at this point. If I use your idea, you will get credit. Thanks to everyone who has waited for the story.


	8. An Attempt At Clothing Mr Darcy

Inspiration is a wonderful thing, is it not? The histories of Elizabeth, Pemberley and Charlie will play major roles in this story. Darcy's history is much like it was in the book, but Elizabeth's is not. But more on that later. For now just enjoy the long overdue chapter.

* * *

**Darcy's POV**

As he and Jane reached the room, Charlie and Elizabeth turned to face them. It was evident from their faces that they had just been involved in a serious discussion and, judging by the look Charlie sent to Elizabeth, it was obvious that the discussion was far from over.

Entering his cousin's room was very strange. It was not a room he had frequented, but he knew enough of it to notice the glaring differences, the largest of which being the very noticeable lack of a bed.

The room itself looked like it could easily have belonged in a tailors shop. Mirrors, both large and small, hung around the room. The very largest of them all was stationed at the far wall. It was a full length mirror and had an intricately worked silver frame.

He did not get much more chance to observe the room as Jane was eager to start. She ran to and fro, picking up objects before shaking her head and setting them back down. It was several minutes before the flurry of movement died down. When she was finally settled, she turned once again to Darcy, armed with a measuring tape.

She stepped towards him and was soon too close for comfort. She grabbed his shoulders and began to slide the tape along them. She was mere inches from him and her hands were moving along his body in a _very_ improper way. Darcy jerked back, nearly sending them both tumbling to the floor.

"What the heck?" It was more of an exclamation than a question, but Darcy chose to answer it anyway. Though the expression was strange, he easily understood her meaning.

"I don't feel that this is entirely proper. If I could see a tailor instead…"

"I am a tailor."

"And I'm sure you make wonderful dresses, but, and please do not take offence at this, I don't feel comfortable with you that close." The dresses comment irked Jane, he could tell, but there was no way to revoke it and Darcy was not accustomed to this world enough to understand why it should offend her.

"Well, take your shirt off. This will be easiest for me if I can get a feel of the size from the clothing you already have." Darcy stared at her with open-mouthed shock. The only women who had _ever_ made such an improper demand of him, was his mother.

'_And Elizabeth,'_ his mind added. Shifting awkwardly he decided to ignore that very unwelcome thought. Things were embarrassing enough now without his mind trying to further agitate him.

"Excuse me?" What else could he say? Being a gentleman of his status meant that rarely did anyone give him a command. Was everyone in the future this abrupt; this crude? Had society truly fallen so far?

Jane looked rather annoyed with him. "Just take the shirt off," she demanded again.

"I certainly shall not!" Jane muttered something under her breath, but it was not audible to Darcy's ears. He doubted it was very pleasant all the same.

"Fine." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Then just tell me the sizes. The clothing won't be exact, but that's not my fault."

"My tailor and my valet know my sizes, but I am afraid that I do not." This was Jane's breaking point.

"Look, I can't do anything unless I have sizes. If you won't let me get near you or touch you, then I need you to take off your shirt and pants."

"My pants?" Darcy paled considerably. Taking off his shirt was bad enough, but his pants? That was impossible.

"Yep, strip down to your underwear—I even have a screen that you can go behind to protect your modesty—all I need is ten minutes tops." Darcy was now a most unbecoming shade of scarlet.

"I can't 'strip down to my underwear' as you put it, for I do not wear underwear. They are not in fashion." To Charlie, who had been watching the whole exchange with amusement, this was the final straw. He bellowed laughter, falling into the chair behind him. He laughed so hard tears began to escape his eyes. It was a few minutes before he could calm down enough to notice the two pairs of eyes that stared at him, one with a slight disapproval, but also a glint of humor and the other with angry embarrassment.

Darcy glanced to the door where Elizabeth had been, curious to see her expression. He had not heard a sound from her which he deemed unusual.

She was not there.

* * *

**Elizabeth's POV**

She just looked at Charlie, her eyes conveying the answer he was expecting. Charlie sighed, all mirth gone from his eyes.

"Liz, you are too trusting. Do you remember what you used to say?" Elizabeth gave him a small smile and repeated the lines to him.

"The more ridiculous a story, the more faith I put into it. Lies are often hidden in the most probable stories."

"You always said that as a joke, but don't you see that you are actually following that rule with this guy, Darcy? For all you know he could be a stalker or insane! Just because he prances around in strange clothing doesn't mean he is from the past." Elizabeth looked away, but a small voice in her head couldn't help but acknowledge the truth in her friend's words.

"But there was an article about him." Elizabeth quickly summed up all the article had said, but Charlie was already shaking his head before she finished.

"You know that means nothing. He could have written the article for all you know, or maybe he just read it and had the crazy idea that it was about him. I know you like to trust people Liz, but you have to face the reality." Elizabeth sighed again. As much as she wanted to, she could not find a counter-argument. The voice that hovered in the back of her mind grew a little stronger.

Thankfully for her, the need for a response was eliminated by the appearance of Jane and Darcy. All Charlie could do was give her a look as they both turned to the new arrivals. Darcy was first to enter the room, herded in by Jane. Charlie followed after. Elizabeth, however, only went as far as the door before stopping. She leaned on the door frame in silent contemplation for a few minutes.

Finally she mumbled something about taking a walk and disappeared down the hallway, her feet moving instinctively and her mind still convulsing with doubt. Ten minutes of wandering led her feet to a seldom used door. Shrugging her shoulders, Elizabeth opened the door and walked inside.

The room Elizabeth entered looked more like a hall. It was long and not very wide, a few chairs and sofas placed here and there along it. The most noticeable aspect of the room was the many paintings that lined the walls, varying in age, but none of them were newer than one hundred years old. They were portraits, illustrating the many masters and mistresses of Pemberley and their descendants. Most of them were from before the house burnt down, but there were a few gathered from other places.

Leisurely strolling around, none of the painting particularly caught her eye. It had been years since she had been in this part of the house for the reason that she cared little of the previous owners of Pemberley and their vanity. Why they thought that portraits of their person should remain even after they were forgotten by their descendants, was a mystery to Elizabeth.

Casting an uninterested glance to her left, Elizabeth's notice was suddenly drawn by a picture that she had not perceived before. Her heart in her throat, she took a few small steps forward. A golden plaque shown from the bottom of the frame. After reading it a strangled gasp was torn from her lips. Her shaking hands groped for her phone. In one quick motion she opened the phone and typed in the number she knew as well as her own. It rang only once before it was answered.

"Come here. I have something I need you to see."

* * *

No promises on the next chapter, cuz I'd probably be obliged to break them anyways. I do know where this is going, however. That's better than what I had last time.


	9. Insanity?

I meant to put this in last chapter, but I forgot. Thanks to everyone who offered ideas and suggestions when I blanked for a while.

I made two errors in dates previously in the story. Both are in chapter 2 and have been fixed. I mentioned something about Pemberley burning down in 1864. The real date was supposed to be 1916. Oops. And, the other date was I said that Darcy thought the date was May 15th, 1812. According to the actual timeline of P&P, this would be _after_ he met Elizabeth and just before Hunsford. September 27, 1811 is the new date. Hope it's not too confusing.

* * *

**Darcy's POV**

Darcy was still looking curiously at the place where Elizabeth was supposed to be, when he heard music. At first he thought that he must have imagined it, but when he looked back over at Charlie, he was astonished to see the source of the music. It was a small rectangular object, no bigger than a deck of cards. After wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, Charlie glanced down at the object and instantly sobered. He put his fingers into a deep crease and opened the object like a hinge. Darcy was at a loss to what such an object would do, when Charlie lifted the thing to the side of his face.

"What's up?" Darcy took a short step back as Charlie began to _talk_ to the thing. The look on his face made it seem as though he actually thought it was going to answer. After listening for a second, Charlie stood and left the room. The two remaining in the room could faintly hear him ask, "Where are you?" as he rushed down the hall.

Darcy turned back to his companion, but she seemed less worried by the strange fit of insanity that had inflicted her beloved.

"What was that?" Jane looked up at him in shock, having forgotten he was there.

"Oh, I suspect that Lizzy called him for some reason or another. In a house this size it becomes somewhat of a necessity." Jane turned back to the tape measure she was rerolling. Darcy failed to understand her meaning. He hadn't heard anyone yelling. How else could Elizabeth have called Charlie?

"I didn't hear anything." Jane looked up, confused.

"How did you not hear anything? Charlie's cell phone has one of the most annoying ringtones I've ever heard and…. Oh, you weren't serious." Jane gave him a weak smile for what she had thought an attempt at a joke. Darcy, however, was more confused than ever.

"Cell phone?" Jane didn't bother to look up from her work this time.

"Don't they have cell phones where you're from?" She paused. "Where are you from anyway?"

"Derbyshire." Jane's brow furrowed in concentration as she looked up again.

"Derbyshire, that's in England, right. The north of England I think." Darcy bowed in response. "Well, am I right?" Once again Darcy was thrown for a loop. How could she not have understood him?

"It is. Tell me," he added after a second of deliberation, "are we not in England currently?" Jane threw back her head and laughed loudly, much like Charlie had done before. Again Darcy was left in embarrassment.

"_Are we not in England?_" She repeated, still laughing. "Nope. You, my friend, are in America."

"The colonies?" Jane looked up at him with skeptical eyes.

"Sure."

"Pray, which colony are we in?" She was still looking at him with incredulity when she answered.

"We are in the… _colony_ of Oregon." Darcy had flattered himself with having a rather good knowledge of the Americas, but he had never before heard of Oregon.

"I am afraid I'm not very familiar with that one."

"Most people aren't," Jane replied with a laugh. Darcy had no reply. He remained silent pondering what he had learned. Elizabeth had said he was in Pemberley, but Jane told him now that he was in America. Both statements could not be true. Jane must be mistaken, for this house was very like Pemberley.

Darcy heard strains of music again, but this time it was softer, classical music as opposed to the sounds Charlie's 'cell phone' had made. When he turned to the noise, he was less surprised to see Jane holding a different rectangular object. Unlike Charlie's, hers did not open as a hinge, but rather she pushed up on it and the thing was nearly cleaved in two. She too lifted the strange object to the side of her face, but she did not speak. Her brow furrowed in confusion from whatever she thought she heard for the inanimate object.

"You're where?" She paused and listened again. "Him? Are you sure?" Another pause. "Ok, we'll be there in a sec." She pushed the object together again.

"Lizzy and Charlie found something they want us to see. They said it's important. Come on." Jane exited the room, leaving Darcy flustered and confused. He had no choice, but to follow her, fearing the sanity of his new found companions.

* * *

**Elizabeth's POV**

"_Come here. I have something I need you to see."_

She had spoken the words with a quiet gravity that led Charlie not to question her. All he asked as he rushed down the hall was the necessary, "Where are you?" Even when she had told him where she was, he did not question how she had come to be there or why. He hung up the phone and was there in a matter of minutes.

She had, by this time, moved from the examination of one portrait to another. The first had been the picture of a single man, but the one she currently looking at was of a family. It was a picture of the last Darcy family to own Pemberley. The father, George Darcy, stood with a hand lovingly on the shoulder of his wife, Anne. Their daughter, Georgiana, was at her father's side and the son, Fitzwilliam, was stationed on his mother's other side. The boy's face bore a strong resemblance to the man in the picture that had first captured her attention.

The man's face was just a more mature; more grownup copy of that boy's who stood happily at his mother's side. Of course, the man himself must have been just an older, more knowledgeable version of the young child. The man's face was also a face Elizabeth knew, perhaps not well, but she knew it none the less.

Charlie entered the room noisily, but she did not look up. Silently she beckoned him over. He came to stand by her, but looked at her rather than the pictures.

"Look," she said as she pointed to the one of the older Fitzwilliam Darcy, "what do you think now?" Charlie scoffed.

"You called me down here to look at a pictur…" His voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of the face of the man. Wide eyed, he scrutinized the painting. There was nothing fake about it. It was the original and could be nothing but a painting of the man Charlie had previously discounted as mad.

"I don't understand." Charlie said at last, stepping back. "This is proof that he is who he says he is, but that's impossible."

"These pictures can't be found anywhere but here. I checked after I got the house. They aren't online and there isn't a copy of any of them anywhere. There is no way, even with plastic surgery, that it would be possible, unless he really is Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"But, he must have died hundreds of years ago."

"Not necessarily, look at the plaque." With some trepidation Charlie cast his eyes down to the dull gold at the bottom of the frame.

_Fitzwilliam Darcy  
1786-?_

After reading the plaque, he turned his eyes back to Elizabeth, questioning.

"I told you, the article said he disappeared without a trace. Somehow he found a path from his time to ours." Her conjecture was utterly impossible and both knew it. It was something that could only be found in a cheap sci-fi novel, not in real life. But what other possibility was there?

"We need to tell Jane." Charlie said at last. Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on the painted face before her. Charlie pulled out his phone and held down a button.

"Tell her to bring Darcy." Charlie gave her a look, but complied. Once he hung up, he looked up at the painting in silence. Both friends were lost in thought, wondering how to present their theory to the others without seeming crazy. By the time the other's arrived, Elizabeth and Charlie could think of nothing.


	10. Proof

**I find it somewhat amusing that I get reviews on **_**other**_** stories telling me, specifically, to update this one. It has happened at least four or five times now so I'd just like to say that I greatly appreciate your enthusiasm. =)**

* * *

**Darcy's POV**

Darcy knew, simply by the route they had taken, that they were headed to the portrait gallery. There was little else in this part of the house or, at least, there hadn't been when he owned it.

They did in fact enter the portrait gallery and Darcy stopped rather quickly to examine some of the portraits. All the paintings that were in his current view he had never seen before. It was quite strange to think that they were his future relatives.

"Darcy," Elizabeth called out to him and he saw that she was some ways down the hall. Charlie was intent on a picture there. Obediently, Darcy walked down to meet them. Neither he nor Jane had looked at the picture that fascinated Charlie.

"Jane," Charlie said at last, turning to her. "This may be difficult to believe, but we believe that Darcy is not from our time." Darcy turned his eyes on Charlie in confusion. How could _he _know that? Unless Elizabeth told him. Darcy shot a quick glance in her direction. She too was looking anxiously at Jane. How many people would she tell? He may not have been familiar with this time period, but he _was_ familiar enough with human nature to imagine the tests and experiments that would be done with him before he was allowed to return home, should his background become general knowledge.

"Is this really the time for one of your jokes? Did you really call me down here _just_ for this sad attempt at humor?"

"Jane, he's telling the truth. Darcy is not from our time." Elizabeth reaffirmed.

"What exactly does, 'not from our time' mean?"

"It means, Darcy is from the early 19th century."

"1811 to be exact," Darcy cut in after Elizabeth.

"That is impossible!" Jane cried, refusing to believe them. She took a few small steps back from the three of them.

"It's true, Jane. Darcy," Elizabeth said, turning to him, "what is a computer? Or a telephone? Can you tell me who Walt Disney, Hitler, Lincoln or Elvis were?" Darcy looked at her blankly. Everything she had said made no sense. It was if she was making up words and names, yet the rapidity with which she listed them off suggested otherwise.

"Harry Potter? The Lord of the Rings?" Charlie joined in the questioning. Darcy shook his head, as much to signal that he knew nothing of the topics as to clear his head.

"IPods? Laptops? The Beatles? CDs? DVDs? Blu rays? Soda? Coca cola? Pepsi? Hershey's? The internet?" Darcy had lost track of who was saying what. The words washed over him in a flood and he could understand none of it.

"How about cell phones?" Elizabeth asked, finally offering a question that Darcy could slightly understand.

"Those strange boxes that Charlie and Jane were speaking into?" Darcy noted the look of confusion in Elizabeth and Charlie's eyes as they shot each other a glance.

"How did you know that," they both asked at once. Darcy opened his mouth to reply, but Jane beat him to it.

"I told him," she stated quietly and Darcy nodded in agreement. "What is electricity?" Jane turned to face Darcy and asked him a question of her own.

"It is a form of energy caused by the movement of…" he trailed off trying to remember the word Elizabeth had used. It sounded quite like electricity. _Elect… elect… electron? _"Electrons?" Jane shot a look between the three around her.

"I was almost beginning to believe you—" Elizabeth cut Jane off.

"I told him that." Darcy bowed slightly in confirmation.

"Who is the president of the United States, then?" Jane asked him. Darcy furrowed his brow in concentration and struggled to come up with the name.

"Madison I believe. John Madison? James? Jack?" Darcy struggled to come up with the correct name, but it eluded his mind every time.

"James Madison died over a hundred and fifty years ago." It was impossible. Darcy clearly remembered reading something in the paper not four days ago about Madison. He said as much.

"Four days ago you were two hundred years in the past." Elizabeth said, shrugging her shoulders a little.

"Darcy," Jane quietly called his attention back to her, "how many states—or colonies—are there in the US?" Darcy imagined the map he had in his study and began to count silently in his mind.

"Fifteen I do believe." Jane sighed and shook her head.

"There are fifty." Darcy knew his number could be off, but it seemed odd that he could have missed thirty-five states. Or perhaps they had all come about in the last two hundred years? He supposed that to be possible.

"Do you believe us now, Jane?" Elizabeth asked this, her eyes seeming to Darcy almost pleading.

"It is too fantastic. I _can't _believe it. Not without more solid proof. I'm sorry." Jane was about to turn away when Charlie caught her arm. He spun her to face the portrait they stood in front of.

"How about this for proof?" He demanded. Jane looked up at the portrait and instantly froze. Darcy too shot a worried look at it, but to him it did not seem odd. It was just the painting of him that had been done a few years after he took over the estate. Jane was now sending him sidelong glances as her eyes darted between the picture and his person. Darcy sighed and glanced over at the painting to the left. It was of his family, the only one that was made before his mother's death. Darcy walked over to it and gently traced his fingers over the younger version of his sister. How he missed her. And what did she think of his being gone? It was only months after her encounter with Wickham, and he should be there with her.

Darcy hadn't noticed how much time he had spent gazing at the picture of his once full and happy family until Jane came over to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

"What was her name?" Darcy jumped at both the unexpectedness and the contact. There seemed to be a much smaller regard for personal space than in his time.

"Excuse me?" Unlike before when Jane seemed exasperated with everything he did, now she offered him an encouraging smile.

"That's your sister, right?" Darcy started to bow before pausing and offering her a nod instead. "What was her name?"

"Her name _is_ Georgiana." He felt the need to enforce the fact that his sister was not gone in any way. He would see her again. He could not use the past tense.

"That's a lovely name. And these are your parents?"

"Yes, they were my parents." Darcy caught a slight look of vexation on his companions face and he felt the need to explain. "My parents were dead when I left, whereas my sister was living. When I return to my time my parents will still be dead, but my sister will be living. I will do whatever it takes to return to her. She will not be lost to me." He turned fully to face Jane and saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. Darcy made to reach into his coat pocket for a handkerchief when he remembered that he was not given the chance to put on his coat.

"If nothing else," Jane told him with a watery smile, "Georgiana is blessed with a great brother." Darcy gave a return smile in thanks for her sincere praise. He looked over her shoulder a minute to see Elizabeth and Charlie in an argument. Charlie pulled out some small strange black rectangle and stared at it a few minutes. Darcy looked at Jane in askance and she turned to see what he was looking at. With both their attention focused on the other pair, they were able to hear the next sentence.

"Damn, you're right," Charlie said. Darcy paled slightly before turning slightly red with anger.

"Did you just swear in the presence of a woman?"

* * *

**Elizabeth's POV**

"Jane," Charlie said at last, turning to her. "This may be difficult to believe, but we believe that Darcy is not from our time." Jane looked into Charlie's eyes and a frown marred her face.

"Is this really the time for one of your jokes? Did you really call me down here _just_ for this attempt at humor?" Charlie and Elizabeth traded glances, not quite prepared for this reaction. They really hadn't known what to expect, but they had at least thought they would be taken a bit more seriously.

Elizabeth, Charlie and Jane, though they could not be closer as friends, had very different views on the world. Charlie saw the world in black and white with a few shades of gray in between; while Elizabeth _never_ thought anything could be defined with black and white and chose instead to use hundreds of shades of gray. Jane was very different from her sister. In a world of black and white, Jane chose only to see the white. She would only see the good in people or situations, but this angelical view came at a price. Jane also had a hard time accepting things beyond her understanding.

"Jane, he's telling the truth. Darcy is not from our time." Elizabeth said a little desperately. They _had _to make Jane understand.

"What exactly does, 'not from our time' mean?"

"It means, Darcy is from the early 19th century."

"1811 to be exact," Darcy cut in. Elizabeth glared at him. He was not exactly helping.

"That is impossible!" Jane took a few steps back from them and tensed her shoulders in a way that both Charlie and Elizabeth recognized as defensive.

"It's true, Jane. Darcy," Elizabeth turned to Darcy and began questioning him about very common things that were not invented or known about until after his time, "what is a computer? Or a telephone? Can you tell me who Walt Disney, Hitler, Lincoln or Elvis were?" His blank stare was exactly what she had been expecting. He could not possibly know any of those things.

"Harry Potter? The Lord of the Rings?" Charlie saw what she was doing and began his own line of questioning. It was easy to see the confusion and frustration on Darcy's face. Elizabeth glanced over at Jane to make sure she was watching. Surly this was enough proof.

"IPods? Laptops? The Beatles? CDs? DVDs? Blu rays? Soda? Coca cola? Pepsi? Hershey's? The internet?" Elizabeth and Charlie alternated questions, playing off the other's.

"How about cell phones?" Elizabeth thought that after this question her point had been made. She turned to speak with Jane almost as soon as she finished the question, but Darcy startled her by answering it.

"Those strange boxes that Charlie and Jane were speaking into?" Elizabeth whipped her head around to send Charlie a look, silently asking if he had told him. His expression of confusion told her that he hadn't.

"How did you know that," Elizabeth and Charlie both demanded of Darcy, not realizing they had spoken in unison.

"I told him," Jane spoke up again finally in a quiet voice. Elizabeth's eyes darted to Jane's face and she was pleased to see some indecision in Jane's face. Perhaps they could convince her after all.

"What is electricity?" Jane turned her own question on Darcy. Elizabeth shook her head minutely. She had given Darcy the answer to this one yesterday, but surly he did not remember it.

"It is a form of energy caused by the movement of…" he trailed off and Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath. He had remembered a great deal more than she thought he would have, but he would not get the last of it; of that she was sure."Electrons?" Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. He certainly had a good memory. How was it possible that he could remember that when he had not only been emotionally and mentally exhausted but also just this morning having written off the entire day as a dream.

"I was almost beginning to believe you—" Elizabeth could not let Jane continue.

"I told him that."

"Who is the president of the United States, then?" Elizabeth shot a look at Charlie who shrugged his shoulders. It seemed Jane would not give up.

"Madison I believe. John Madison? James? Jack?" If nothing else, this _had_ to prove that they were telling the truth.

"James Madison died over a hundred and fifty years ago." Jane's voice was still quiet, but there was a slight challenge in her tone.

"Impossible, I read an article about him just four days ago." Elizabeth smirked slightly.

"Four days ago you were two hundred years in the past." Elizabeth said, shrugging her shoulders a little.

"Darcy," Jane again commanded his attention, "how many states—or colonies—are there in the US?" Elizabeth looked over at Jane sideways. _Colonies?_

"Fifteen I do believe." Elizabeth bit her lip and smothered a giggle. He was only off by thirty-five.

"There are fifty."

"Do you believe us now, Jane?" Elizabeth was aware she was almost pleading with Jane to believe them, but she wanted Jane's help and needed her support.

"It is too fantastic. I _can't _believe it. Not without more solid proof. I'm sorry." Jane was going to walk away, Elizabeth knew it. Apparently so did Charlie because he grabbed his girlfriend's arm and steered her towards the portrait of Darcy.

"How about this for proof?" Jane looked up and instantly let out a miniscule gasp and her body tensed. She cast many glances between the picture and Darcy, indecision clear in her face.

"What else can we use for proof," Elizabeth whispered to Charlie. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know. Literature maybe?"

"Yeah, but it's too easy to find an author he wouldn't know, let's try one he would." Charlie nodded.

"Who was writing then?"

"Jane Austen."

"He wouldn't know Austen."

"He's read Persuasion, he'd have to know who Jane Austen is!" Elizabeth argued.

"But her name never actually appeared on the books until after she died. They were always written by 'A Lady'."

"That's true," Elizabeth conceded, "and Bronte is too new as well. What about Emily Dickenson?" By now, neither Elizabeth nor Charlie knew or cared that they had lost both Jane and Darcy's attention. They were lost in their own discussion.

"Late 1800s. How about Elizabeth Gaskell?"

"1850s and later. Tolstoy?"

"1860s." Charlie paused. It was not that he could not think of another author, Elizabeth knew they could keep going in this way for quite some time. Rather, he was contemplating something. "I've got it, Dickens!"

"Nope, Darcy wouldn't have heard of him."

"Yes, he was writing in the early 1800s." Elizabeth shook her head at him.

"Dickens wasn't born until 1812." Charlie was about to disagree, but instead he pulled out his iPod and opened an internet browser. With a few deft movements he loaded 'Charles Dickens' into the search engine. He opened the first link and the first thing that he saw was the picture. Scrolling down, Charlie quickly found the information he was looking for.

_February 7__th__, 1812 - June 9__th__, 1870_

"Damn, you're right," Charlie said, shaking his head.

"Did you just swear in the presence of a woman?"

* * *

**I'm trying to create a more flawed Jane, because in most stories she is made more or less perfect. Actually I'm trying to make all my characters flawed in some ways, but mostly Jane.**


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